Cancelling the Apocalypse
by Cocofoshosho
Summary: After four years, ex-pilot Soul Evans is recruited to reenter the dying Jaeger Initiative. He meets a green-eyed, pigtailed nerd that may change his life even more than the imminent end of the world. Pacific Rim AU.
1. Chapter 1

As a kid, Soul used to love the movie _Godzilla_. The classic 1954 film was cheesy, but it was good; it involved a real-life city, the titular giant monster, and a tragic means to an end. The character of Professor Yammi commented that there could very well be more Godzillas out in the deep, especially if atomic weapons were explored further. While the idea of more monsters fascinated his seven-year-old self, 19-year-old Soul Evans never imagined that he'd be fighting the iconic reptile's real-life ancestors.

When the first monster appeared, the world was in a panic. It took four days to kill, and it devastated Los Angeles and the surrounding towns. Though he was an American himself, Soul had snickered that they were the victims. The United States had performed more tests of atomic weapons than any other country since the 1960s; of course the monster would attack here. Professor Yammi called it. The government declared that it was an isolated, Godzilla-like attack - one and done.

But then more came. The monsters - officially dubbed "Kaiju" - attacked cities all over the edges of the Pacific Ocean. They poured out from a rift in dimensions that had opened deep in the ocean, a tear in the fabric of space and time. Experts called it the Breach. The rest of civilization called it the end of the world.

The leading countries of the world scrambled to create a weapon to fight back. Thus, the Jaeger Initiative was introduced - behemothic war robots driven by two pilots in sync with each other's thoughts and motions (a concept called "drifting"). It wasn't without trial and error that the program got up and going; the need for two pilots wasn't known until the neural overload of driving a Jaeger killed a few single-piloting captains. The 250-feet-tall, over-glorified Rock 'Em, Sock 'Em Robots were to be the saviors of the world.

And for a while, they were. Jaegers were taking down Kaijus within minutes of sighting the monsters. As the strength of the Kaijus increased, their power was matched by the creation of stronger Jaegers. As the first Category Three Kaiju surfaced, plans were already in motion to create Mark-III Jaegers.

With the need for more Jaegers came the need for more drift-compatible pilots. Soul volunteered for service; as the family fuck-up, he figured he'd have better luck at being a hero than impressing his aristocratic parents. They had Wes, anyway - the first born son, violin prodigy, charmer extraordinaire. Blending into the background had become a habit for Soul; he never thought it would make him marketable. He had learned to be observant, noticing even the smallest of details in passing. Captains at the Unalakleet Shibusen in Alaska praised his surveillance abilities, remarking on what a good partner he'd make if he could drift with someone.

That had turned out to be a problem. He had been unable to drift with any of the soldiers in his class. He was sarcastic and aloof, traits borne of growing up second-best (at best) or a predicted failure (as usual). He also had stark white hair, crimson eyes, and razor-sharp teeth, none of which helped him make friends any too well. He was so careful with whom he let in; none of the others had given him any reason to trust them inside his head. Unsuccessful days turned into weeks, and Soul had accepted that he would be discharged from the program if he could not achieve drift with _someone_.

Then a savior walked in, taking the form of the last eligible person he thought he'd ever see in a military environment. Soul's jaw had dropped - the most emotion he had shown in his time at the base.

"Little brother," Wes had chided, smiling and ruffling Soul's white hair affectionately, "I don't see anyone else lining up for the chance to drift with you and your sunny personality?" Wes looked around innocently, and Soul shoved him, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

* * *

Three years later, Soul and Wes Evans were one of the most sought after teams in the world. Their Jaeger, _Soul Resonance_ , had single-handedly taken down four Kaijus over the years with minimal damage to the surrounding area and their Jaeger. They had even saved other Jaegers and their pilots. It was for those reasons that the brothers found themselves getting ready to defend the coast of Alaska at ass-o'clock in the morning. While Soul grumbled as he half-consciously pulled on his uniform, Wes bounced around the room, excited for action.

"Little brother," Wes gleefully intoned as he shoved his arms through his black leather jacket, "are you ready to be a hero again?"

"Take off the jacket. You know you can't wear it in _Resonance_ ," Soul sighed, rubbing his face to wipe away a growing smile. He was equally as excited for some action; it had been a while since their last mission. Wes slid the leather back off and threw it in his brother's face. "No ambition," Wes lamented, shaking his head dramatically.

Soul snorted, letting the jacket fall to the floor. "Hence why I was never the favorite child," he grunted as he tugged up the laces to his boots. His older brother merely shrugged and waited for him to finish. Together, they left their living compartment to head for _Soul Resonance_.

Once inside the conn-pod that was the head of _Resonance_ , the brothers began to suit up. Technicians outfitted them in the standard white armor and connected them to their Jaeger - Wes on the left, Soul on the right - as the two men readied themselves for drifting. UN-approved civilians buzzed around them, checking and double-checking that all the equipment was up to par.

" _Evans and Evans_ ," a deep voice sounded in their earpieces. The two men paused, addressing their leader.

"Commander Marshal Stein," the brothers recited simultaneously. They continued their prep as Stein briefed them.

" _There has been Kaiju activity detected just off the coast, near Nome. Our indicators tell us it's a Category Three. 'Knifehead,' they're calling it_."

"So just another monster," Wes remarked, raising a stark, white eyebrow.

Though the elder brother hadn't questioned the Commander Marshal, his implied prompt came across loud and clear.

" _This should just be routine for you kids_ ," Stein drawled. Soul supposed he had just taken a drag from his ever-present cigarette. A small _poof_ confirmed his suspicion. " _Take it out, and get back here. Simulations will start at oh-nine-hundred, after PT. Don't think you're getting out of it_."

Soul groaned and hung his head. Physical training was the worst, but it had toned the lean muscles hiding under his tall, lanky frame. Wes pursed his lips, amused.

"Yes, sir," the elder Evans answered, a smile on his face. As the Commander Marshal cut communication, the conn-pod began its descent to attach to the rest of the Jaeger. Once the head made contact with the neck, _Resonance_ finished securing itself, locking the conn-pod into place.

Wes turned his attention to his brother. "Are you ready?"

Soul nodded, and the command for calibration was sent. Soon after, their neural link commenced. He was suddenly bombarded with his brother's thoughts, memories, and emotions. The images of past events weren't always new, but he was still surprised sometimes by his brother's experiences. He saw himself as a baby, being brought home for the first time. He watched Wes' first kiss (Blair? Soul should have guessed), and Wes telling their parents he was going to join Soul as a Jaeger pilot.

Before he knew it, they had reached drift. When Wes stuck his left arm out, Soul's and _Resonance_ 's respective arms extended as well. Then Soul fisted his right hand, bringing it across his body as Wes' left hand did the same. The Jaeger, responding to her captains, brought her giant hands together in a fist-bump in front of her chest, just below her nuclear core. With her calibration completed and her pilots synced, _Soul Resonance_ was brought to life. The bay doors opened, and the Mark-III Jaeger marched out into the rainstorm that drenched the base and surrounding area in a freezing rain.

In hindsight, Soul guessed the rough weather outside should have been the first sign of the shitstorm to come.

* * *

" _We're picking up the Kaiju signal nearby_ ," Stein relayed in their earpieces. As the brothers made their way further out to the sea, the waves got taller and the rain fell harder. Visibility was near zero; all in all, the entire situation had about the worst conditions ever for fighting a Kaiju.

Then Soul saw the boat.

"Wes," he began, "we've got some fishermen who couldn't have picked a shittier time or a shittier place to be doing their shitty job." The elder brother directed his attention to where Soul had indicated.

"...what shits," Wes replied, eliciting an eye-roll from Soul.

"Adjusting torque. Stabilizing," Soul called. _Soul Resonance_ 's hand dove under the boat, giving it a shove in the direction of the shoreline. The Jaeger no sooner turned back to the open sea than Knifehead made its appearance, jaws snapping.

Wordlessly, the two brothers slipped into fight mode. _Resonance_ traded blows with the monster, pounding her giant fists into the side of the Kaiju's blade-like skull. The monster screeched, attempting to rake its claws down the side of the Jaeger. Soul (and _Resonance_ , by extension) caught the creature's scaly arm before it could damage the Jaeger, and Wes drove _Resonance_ 's left fist into the beast's eye. Knifehead fell to the side, lashing out with its other limbs.

"Readying right plasma cannon!" Soul shouted over the noise of the fight and the storm. _Resonance_ 's right palm opened, displaying the Plasmacaster and the pure energy building inside it, while her left hand reached out to clamp around the jaw of the Kaiju. Wes held the monster in check while Soul shoved the Plasmacaster into the beast's side.

"Firing plasma cannon!" Soul hollered, releasing the blast that the Jaeger had built. Knifehead let out a piercing cry before crumbling into the ocean.

"Yeah!" Wes whooped, smiling toothily at his brother.

Soul grinned back before radioing the Commander Marshal. "Hey, Stein," the young pilot smirked, "Are you sure we can't get out of PT for an excellent display of kickassery?" Static crackled over the line as the brothers waited for a response. Bits and pieces of the Commander Marshal's reply came through their earpieces, and the men strained to hear it.

" _N...ju...of th…!_ " Soul looked to Wes to see if he could make any sense of it, but by the look on the elder brother's face, he had no clue either. Soul tried again, "Stein? You're cutting out, what did you say?"

" _Tu...nd! Turn -_ "

Wes bellowed in pain as the left hand of _Soul Resonance_ was bisected by Knifehead as he reemerged from the ocean, attacking the Jaeger from behind. The men were rocked in the conn-pod, their harnesses jerking against them.

"Wes!" Soul yelled, pummeling the Kaiju with _Resonance_ 's right arm. The monster roared, falling back to escape the Jaeger's attack. "Wes! Hey, we can finish this!" Soul gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the Kaiju as it reared up for another strike. He knew that if a Jaeger was injured, so was its pilot on whichever side the injury occurred (though to a lesser extent).

"My plasma cannon isn't recharged yet!" Soul shouted to Wes. The elder brother struggled to lift his right arm, blood leaking through his glove.

"Readying left plasma cann-AAHH! SHIT!" Knifehead used his namesake crest to completely sever _Resonance_ 's left arm from her body. As Wes cried out, Soul tried to keep in control. As he raised _Resonance_ 's right arm to fend off the monster, the Kaiju's clawed hand shattered the left side of the conn-pod. The hand retracted when Soul hooked the creature with a harsh uppercut.

"Wes!" Soul checked on his brother through the drift, noting with alarm how exposed they both were with a breach in the conn-pod.

"Soul, listen to me," Wes panted. "You need to - "

The Kaiju screeched and plunged its hand back into the pod, ripping Wes from the Jaeger with a bone-shattering grip and launching him forcefully into the ocean.

"WES! WES! NO!" Soul shouted, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't do anything; he was still strapped into his own harness, and the Kaiju was a fucking Kaiju. And not only did he lose his brother, but through the drift, Soul experienced his death. He felt Wes's harsh pain and cold acceptance of his own demise. He felt the crushing impact of the waves, and then he felt nothing. Wes was gone.

All at once, the neural load of _Soul Resonance_ came down on Soul as the only pilot. He clenched his jaw against the pain from both the loss of a copilot and the loss of his brother.

"PLASMA CANNON!" Soul bellowed, not caring if the damn thing wasn't ready. It was _going to be ready_. The Kaiju made to attack _Resonance_ 's remaining arm, and with a yell, Soul shoved the arm into the monster's mouth. The creature raked a claw down the Jaeger's torso, stretching diagonally from shoulder to hip. The pilot ground his sharp teeth together as the same mark made its way across his own body. He felt his own hot blood seep into his uniform.

"FIRING PLASMA CANNON!"

The blast ripped through the Kaiju, leaving a massive hole near the base of its skull. Soul tore _Resonance_ 's arm out of the beast, and it collapsed into the ocean a final time.

* * *

Soul didn't know how he managed to make it back to shore. Maybe single-piloting was easier with half the Jaeger gone.

When he made it to land, he let _Resonance_ fall to her knees, and then she toppled over on her torso. He got himself out of his harness in a daze, exiting the conn-pod via the massive hole the Kaiju had left. Blearily, he noticed someone trying to talk to him, an old man who was dressed for being out in the elements. The man gestured to Soul's chest, and the pilot ran a hand down his front, smearing blood the color of his eyes across his white armor.

"Wes," Soul muttered, breathing hard and half-delirious with fatigue, effort, and heart-wrenching loss. The man was attempting to communicate with him, but all Soul could hear were Wes' final cries and the shrieks of the Kaiju with no barrier to filter the sounds.

Succumbing to exhaustion, Soul crumpled to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

It was always raining at a Shibusen.

Or at least, that's what it felt like to Soul. He looked out of the helicopter window to see the Desu Shiti Shibusen for the first time, and a bittersweet feeling swept through him. It wasn't that he wasn't ready to be back; four years between the Nome incident and now had forced him to accept the world the way it was. When Stein had come to the Wall of Life construction zone to re-recruit the ex-pilot for the dying Jaeger program, Soul had readily accepted. Now that he was here, however, he felt off knowing his copilot would not be his brother. It almost felt like betrayal. He tugged a bit on the lapels of Wes' leather jacket that he had taken to wearing.

The helicopter landed on a landing pad that was surrounded by a mass of people buzzing around the Shibusen. In the midst of all the activity was a single, stationary yellow umbrella. Curiosity built up in Soul, distracting him from his melancholy. Stein stepped off the helicopter in the direction of the umbrella and the person who held it. Soul followed a few steps behind, his rucksack slung over a shoulder.

As he got closer, he saw Stein take an unopened black umbrella from the person. As Soul squinted to try to see through the rain, another umbrella was shoved in his face. He opened it, the device sheltering him from the watery onslaught. He got a better look at the person underneath the yellow umbrella: a woman, considerably smaller than himself, with ash-blonde pigtails and a chunk of bangs hanging over brilliant emerald eyes. She had papers stuffed under the same arm that held her umbrella. Her red plaid skirt fluttered in the wind, and her black jacket offered only a little protection from the chill of the weather. She had - _are those combat boots?_

"Maka, meet Soul Evans," Stein drawled, lighting up a cigarette and interrupting the pilot's thoughts. Soul took the proffered umbrella in one hand and extended the other as Stein continued, "Evans, this is Maka Albarn, head of Jaeger restorations."

Maka took Soul's hand and shook it firmly, a small smile on her face. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Evans." Her voice had a slight Japanese accent that was at odds with her more English features.

"Just Soul is fine," he offered, letting go of her hand and letting his fall to his side. He felt the almost-foreign urge to smile back at her. Maka turned to Stein.

" _Are you sure he's up to this?_ " she asked Stein in Japanese. Ah, so she must have grown up here. Good thing Soul went through an (admittedly embarrassing, in retrospect) anime phase when he was younger. Though his parents weren't too supportive of the whole otaku thing, they did honor his request to be taught Japanese.

" _If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here_ ," the young man quipped before Stein could answer. Maka flushed an impressive shade as she snapped her attention back to Soul. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the corner of Stein's mouth turn up in one of the only smiles Soul had ever seen from the guy.

To her credit, Maka held her chin high despite her color. "My apologies, Soul," she reverted back to English, "I didn't want you to feel forced into this."

"With all due respect, Maka - can I call you Maka?" At her nod, the pilot continued, "It's the end of the world. I can either die in cowardice or in a Jaeger." She nodded again.

"Well, Maka," Stein cut in, taking a long drag on his cigarette, "let's show Evans the ropes." The Commander Marshal began to walk towards the giant building. Maka motioned for Soul to follow as she too turned in the direction that Stein went.

Once inside, the trio closed their umbrellas and dried their feet. Maka took the men's umbrellas and passed them, along with her own yellow one, off to a crew member. One of the crew moved to take Soul's jacket, but Soul glared at the woman who then promptly backed away. Maka took the papers out from underneath her arm and fluffed them up. Soul turned his gaze and peered at her curiously, but she didn't notice as Stein began talking.

"This is the Desu Shiti Shibusen," he announced, waving a hand to gesture to the expansive room they stood in. "I think the UN stationed us here in mockery but I'll take what I can get, given the circumstances." Soul took in the place, noticing how similar and yet how different it was from the Shibusen in Alaska. The layout was basically the same - a huge main room with several hallways branching off from it, each hallway divided from the main room by a large metal door.

What was different was the sheer amount of _people_. Techies were milling around wildly, crew was weaving in between them on foot and in small trucks, while still others were vying for the Commander Marshal's attention as he walked with Soul and Maka.

"I'll take it from here, sir," Maka piped up. Stein sighed, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth as he dropped what was left of his cigarette and smashed it beneath his foot. He bent to retrieve it and stuck it in his pocket as he answered, "Very well. Don't forget to introduce him to the rest of the pilots." She nodded and turned to Soul, the same soft smile from before on her lips.

"Shall we?" she questioned, and Soul grunted in response, hiking his rucksack a little higher on his shoulder. She made a beeline for a hallway on the left. Soul kept close, lest the hundreds of people in the room separate him from his tour guide.

Once in the hallway with the door shut behind them, the commotion died down immensely. Maka's shoes - _yes, those are_ definitely _combat boots_ \- made little noise in the empty passage, a tribute to how often she had walked through the space. His own boots thudded heavily in the silence.

After a minute or so, Maka spoke, "I've read through your file several times, Soul. I hope you approve of the matches I've picked for you."

"Matches?" Soul questioned, his brows furrowed.

"For drift compatibility," she explained, flipping a pigtail behind her back. She held up the sheaf of papers in her hand, offering them to him. He took the stack, riffling through the pages and quickly glancing at the profiles of potential copilots. He really didn't think he'd find anyone else to drift with, but he commended her for trying.

They came upon a large room occupied by half a basketball court. There were a few people in there; four were actually using the court while one sat on a bench. Maka walked over to the bench, gaining the attention of everyone in the room.

"Yo, Maks!" a blue-haired young man yelled back. The guy threw a hand up in the air, and Maka smiled and returned the high-five as more "hey"s and "hello"s came.

"Everyone," Maka greeted, "meet Soul Evans, our newest pilot."

There was a small silence as the gang took in the new recruit, and Soul fought the urge to duck his head at the scrutiny. The awkwardness was broken by the blue-haired wonder as he shouted, "Your god welcomes you, peasant!"

"Black Star!" a tall, willowy, dark-haired girl chastised, bowing her head in greeting to Soul. "Excuse him, he has a way of - "

"Surpassing the gods!" Black Star shouted, a proud smirk stretching across his face.

Soul raised an argent eyebrow as Maka filled in the gaps. "Soul, this is Black Star Barrett and his head of tech, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa," she gestured to the two that had spoken.

"'Barrett?'" Soul repeated, the other eyebrow lifting to match the first, "You copilot _Phantom Shadow_ , right?"

"I only have a copilot because my old man still lives in his glory days," Black Star replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Come on, Tsubaki. I'm hungry. Later, plebs!" And with that, the blue-haired wonder tore out of the room. His head of tech raced to catch up with him, voicing apologies to those left in their dust.

"To answer your question, Soul," Maka broke the quiet left in the wake of their friends' (?) departure, "yes, he and Sid Barrett, his father, pilot _Phantom Shadow_. And yes," she continued, anticipating Soul's next question, "he's always like that. Always has been, and always will be."

Soul couldn't hold back a grimace. Overconfident, cocky bastard. The blue haired pilot reminded Soul of a shorter, louder version of his deceased brother. It made Soul uneasy.

"Anyway, we're the real cool kids," a tall woman smirked, tossing brassy blonde hair over her shoulder. She extended her hand ( _like a normal person!_ Soul was relieved to note) and introduced herself. "I'm Liz Thompson, and this is Patti, my sister." A slightly shorter, rounder-faced version of Liz popped up beside the white haired pilot, almost startling him. "Hiya, there!" she smiled widely, rocking back on her heels with her hands folded in front of her. "Are you ready for the end of the world?"

"Patti!" Liz scolded, saving Soul from having to respond. What did he even say to that? Patti didn't even seem embarrassed, instead skipping over to stand beside her sister.

"Anyway," Liz rolled her eyes, "welcome to Death City. We'll see you around!" She held up two fingers in a peace sign and linked arms with Patti. The shorter sister giggled, and the two headed for the door.

Soul turned to Maka. "Looks like I can still clear a room," he joked, but her brows furrowed. He realized belatedly that she must have read his humor as self-deprecation. It wasn't far off from the truth, but he tried to take it back anyway. As he opened his mouth, yet another voice caught him off guard.

"I wouldn't be too worried," a male voice droned, not quite monotonous but not really having inflection either. "They're just antsy. This is the only place they can use their Jaegers now, and we haven't had a Kaiju nearby since two months ago."

Soul turned his attention to the guy, hunched over a book on the bench. "This is Dr. Kidman Mortimer, Kaiju - " Maka started, but the doctor cut her off, straightening from his position.

"Call me 'Kid,'" he trained his odd gold eyes on the pilot. _Like I'm one to talk about weird features_ , Soul internally censured himself, nodding at the doctor and holding out his hand. Kid shook it, then held out his other hand. Soul stared uncomprehendingly at the appendage offered before him. Maka leaned over and whispered in the pilot's ear, "Shake it; he is very concerned with symmetry." As Soul took Kid's hand, he wondered why Maka felt the need to whisper. Kid would have heard either way.

"Kid is our resident Kaiju expert," Maka went on with the introduction. "He knows more about the creatures than anyone else."

"Even Stein?" Soul questioned.

Maka nodded. "Even the Commander Marshal."

"I dedicated my life to increasing my knowledge about Kaiju," Kid inserted, closing his tome and rising to his feet. "And, incidentally, your name has come up a few times. They call you a Kaiju 'soul eater.'"

"Who's they?" Soul inquired, crimson eyes slightly narrowed and hand tightened on the strap of his rucksack.

"Almost everyone I've met. After all, only two pilots have single-piloted a Jaeger, killed a Kaiju, and lived. Also, your record in _Soul Resonance_ is almost unmatched." Kid spouted off facts as Soul stood, bewildered at how much other people knew about him. "It was nice to meet you, Soul." The doctor dismissed him, then turned to his companion. "Maka." Maka dipped her head in a respectful nod, and Kid walked away.

"If you'll follow me?" Maka angled her body to the door, hesitating for Soul's answer. He took a few steps toward the exit, and she fell into stride beside him. They took a left in the hallway, then a right as it branched into more hallways.

Jesus, how many hallways can a building have?

"I know it seems impossibly big here," Maka seemed to have read his mind. He blinked as she resumed, "but this is the largest Shibusen in the world. It used to house ten Jaegers at a time, and each pilot had his or her own room. Also, all the officials and tech hands were completely housed here."

Soul whistled, the sound echoing through the space. "And I thought Unalakleet was big."

"Unalakleet could house two Jaegers," Maka recited.

"Done your research, eh?" Soul's mouth quirked.

"Stayed too long in Alaska, _eh_?" Maka blurted, then slapped a hand over her mouth as she stalled mid step. Her verdant eyes widened to the size of the plates Soul's mother used to set teacups on, and her face became the same color as her skirt. Soul chuckled and clapped her on the back.

"No need for diplomacy around me," Soul smirked at her, "I'm a snarky bastard with no remorse." The corners of her lips twitched tentatively as some of her blush faded away. "And you," he went on, "you're a nerd."

"I am not!" she retorted, eyes narrowing at him. He scoffed and continued walking.

She caught up to him. "I'm not a nerd."

"Sure. And I'm not a three star pilot," he countered.

"But you are." Her brows pinched together in confusion.

"Oh, did you read that in my file?" He side-eyed her, a sly smile on his face. "Nerd."

"It doesn't hurt to be well informed," she sniffed, turning her nose up and crossing her arms, halting once again. He shrugged, still moving down the passage. "You're getting left behind, _nerd_."

"This is your bay, _sharky_ ," she answered, nose still a mile high. Soul pivoted sharply, a tinge of red high on his cheeks. _Called out_ , he thought. Out loud, he retaliated with "Sassy, sassy Maka." She opened the doors without a word to him, and they walked through.

Upon seeing what was in "his" bay, Soul was star-struck. Standing proudly was _Soul Resonance_ , restored to her former glory. Her conn-pod was repaired, her arm was replaced, and her torso was flawless once more. She was as good as new.

"Better than new," Maka corrected. Soul jerked his head to face her, unaware that he had spoken aloud. "You probably wouldn't want to hear me go on about it, though. I'm just a nerd." She impishly examined her nails as he fumbled for words. Damn it, he was curious, but like hell would he beg. He stayed silent.

It was just as well; she elaborated anyway, "Not only were her broken parts replaced, but she was almost entirely upgraded as well. Her nuclear core was completely refurbished, and her new torso and limbs are alloy-free titanium. The conn-pod has been completely remade from near-unbreakable materials like tungsten and osmium."

"What stayed the same?" Soul asked, his gaze once again transfixed on _Soul Resonance_.

"Her overall design and, of course, she still has the nuclear core identifying her as a Mark-III," Maka supplied. Soul nodded appreciatively, running his eyes over the Jaeger a final time.

"So," he turned to Maka, "where's the food I heard of earlier?"

* * *

Once they arrived at the dining hall, Soul didn't really feel like eating. He didn't like people, and he _really_ didn't like a lot of people, especially when they were all crammed into one place. The only good thing was that due to all the activity, no one really paid attention to him. He fidgeted in his place next to Maka as they stood in line. It wasn't cool, and he tried to force himself to quit it before the woman standing beside him noticed.

He was too slow. "We can find somewhere less crowded to eat, if you'd like," she offered. He shook his head, his pride getting the best of him. She searched his face, intense emerald eyes roaming over his face. If he wasn't already on edge from all the people, he would have squirmed under her scrutiny.

Eventually, she turned her eyes to focus on the trays being handed to them. As they departed from the chow line, she tilted her head towards him, her pigtails gently swishing. "You know," she looked down at her tray, "I know a great spot to get some peace and quiet." Her eyes rose again to meet his. He nodded, and he followed her out of the dining hall.

After a few hallways, she stopped in front of a door. She balanced her tray on one hand while punching in the security code with the other. The door slid open, revealing a small room with a couch and a coffee table. She set her tray on the table and motioned for Soul to do the same. She closed the door as Soul dropped down onto the low couch.

"This is pretty nice." He glanced around at the sparsely decorated space, dropping his rucksack and reaching for the plate of spaghetti on his tray. Maka sat next to him and nibbled on a piece of bread. After practically inhaling the pasta, Soul used his bread to sop up the sauce left behind on his plate. "Do you think I could get the code to use this place too?" he asked, popping the marinara-bread in his mouth.

"No, I don't think so," she replied, twirling noodles around her fork. Soul paused in his chewing, then slowly swallowed. He couldn't believe he had been so forward. He didn't even know how to get here on his own, anyway.

He coughed. "Uh, sorry. I just - "

"This is my room," she stated simply, finally eating her spaghetti. Soul's jaw dropped, exposing all his pointy teeth. He looked around the room - _her_ room - again. The only things in there were the couch and the table.

"Beyond that door - " she used her fork to point to the door in front of them, not the door that led into the hallway, " - is where most of my things are. That's why it looks so barren in here." The pilot nodded, at a loss for what to say to that. Maka went back to her spaghetti as Soul sipped from his cup of water.

Maka made quick work of the rest of her plate and her own glass of water, then they made their way back to the dining area. The hellhole was still jam-packed but the two didn't stay long, simply dropping off their dishes and quickly leaving.

"Would you like to go to your room?" she asked him. Soul grunted in affirmation and trailed behind her as she walked through semi-familiar hallways. To his surprise, his room was right across from hers.

"Stein didn't want you to get lost too easily," she explained, passing him a slip of paper. On it were the numbers _3283701_. He punched in the number, and the door slid open. The room was set up similar to Maka's - a couch and a table, though a vase of vibrant fake flowers was centered on the table.

"This door opens manually," Maka went on, striding forward and reaching for the handle of the door that would lead to his actual bedroom. She opened it and stood to the side as he entered, dropping his rucksack as he examined the space. It looked almost like his and Wes' room in Unalakleet, but it was still very different. On one side was a single bed with a large monitor perched on a dresser next to it. On the other side hung a mirror with a corkboard underneath it, and a tiny bathroom was visible through an open door with the words _Soul Resonance_ scrawled delicately across it. Soul took in the room, a strange kind of nostalgia coursing through him. He shrugged out of his ( _Wes'_ ) leather jacket and began to take off his shirt. The shirt was almost completely off when he heard a muffled squeak and suddenly remembered that he wasn't alone.

Figuring _why stop now?_ , Soul removed his shirt and balled it up in his hands. He glanced over to see Maka blushing and trying to keep her eyes off of him, but failing as her eyes betrayed her to peek at his chest and, presumably, the scar that bisected it.

"Like what you see?" he snarked, flashing his pointed teeth in a derisive smile. She whirled around and stepped out of his entire assigned area, but not before he heard her murmur, "I like your teeth" before the door closed behind her. He stood in genuine shock, his mouth hanging open once again.

 _What in the actual hell?_ he wondered, running his tongue across the insides of his teeth. He remembered how she had called him "Sharky" earlier, but he had thought it was just a jab like anyone - _everyone_ \- else would have done if they were not scared of said teeth. His mind ran through the many events of the day as he unpacked his rucksack and settled into the room that would be his for months to come.

There was more to Maka Albarn than met the eye, and he was determined to figure her out. As he decided this, the monitor on the dresser came to life, displaying a message from Stein: _PT AND DRIFT TESTING TOMORROW 0700. WELCOME BACK, PRINCESS_.

Soul groaned.


	3. Chapter 3

0700 came bright and early. He didn't know how he managed to get up and get going, even stopping by the dining hall for a bite of breakfast. Maka found him there, and they departed together for the training arena.

PT did not suck any less from the last time he did it. He was surprised that Maka led the group, though he figured he probably shouldn't have been. She kept the pilot and his potential copilots on a rigorous track. How she did it in a skirt, he had no idea. He did notice that she ditched her button up, sporting a white tank top that showed off lean muscles even grown-ass men would be jealous of. Soul noticed some of the male prospects looking at her appreciatively and a surge of disgust rose up in him. He'd make sure to _own_ those douchebags in the compatibility tests.

After an hour or so, Stein came in, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. Every man and woman in the room snapped to attention, right arms flying up in salute. Soul fought off the fatigue of a hundred pushups and climbing a rope twice, refusing to let his arm fall.

"At ease," Stein called, and arms dropped in relief. Maka put on her white button-up before she strode up to the Commander Marshal. He handed her a pen and a clipboard with some papers attached. The group dispersed to the sides of the room as a few techs brought in the materials for drift testing: a mat and two wooden sparring rods. As Maka called the name of the first contender, Soul was handed one of the rods. He spun it around a bit, getting the feel of it again before stepping into the center of the mat. A Germanic-looking guy came onto the mat, flamboyantly twirling the rod around his body like he hadn't just been put through the physical gauntlet. Soul had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

At Maka's signal, the match began.

* * *

"Four - zero," Maka sighed, scribbling on her clipboard. Adrenaline still pulsed through Soul's blood as he shook the hand of the sixth contestant he had sparred with. Stein stared disinterestedly out at the mat as Maka called out the next opponent - just as he had been the whole time - and Soul couldn't help but feel like something wasn't quite right.

"Is this really the best you've got for me?" the white-haired pilot called to the Commander Marshal. Stein lifted an eyebrow, but Maka answered, "It's been a long morning of training - "

Soul chuffed a laugh, cutting her off. "Like I'm not tired too?" Her eyes narrowed, and he kept laughing.

"Stop it," she commanded. He didn't. The other trainees in the room started whispering, wondering at the new pilot and his gall.

"Maka." Stein's calm voice sliced through the noise in the room, effectively quieting all conversation. Soul's chuckles died off and he watched, a smug smile still on his face, as Maka turned her gaze to the man in charge.

"Yes, sir?" she asked almost timidly.

"Why don't you hand Mr. Evans his ass?" If the room was quiet before, it was completely devoid of sound now. Maka looked surprised, her mouth hanging open (to protest or to graciously accept, Soul wasn't sure). Soul's own mouth had lost its smile, crimson eyes wide at Stein's proposal. The Commander Marshal's eyes slid sideways to look at the woman next to him, and her jaw snapped shut as she nodded.

Maka walked over and picked up the sparring rod that had been forgotten on the floor since Soul's gutsy question. She didn't bother to change out of her skirt and button-up, merely rolling the sleeves up on the shirt and stepping onto the mat. She gave the staff a few practice twirls as Soul watched her, trying to calculate her style.

"I'm not going easy on her," he informed Stein over his shoulder as the pilot turned to face his newest opponent.

"You don't need to," Maka answered, and Soul turned his attention to her as she stuck out her hand. He looked over at Stein who was back to disinterestedly awaiting the match. Soul shook Maka's hand, and they backed up to their starting positions.

"Begin," Stein's monotonous command set the fight in motion. Maka didn't give Soul time to think about his moves, whirling around him and bringing her sparring rod down on his hard enough to jar his own staff. She jumped high, drawing his defense high as he tried to counterattack. He let out a curse as her rod came low into contact with his side, the unanticipated hit stinging his body.

She landed and walked back to her starting position as Stein called out, "One, zero." Soul refused to rub the spot he knew would soon bruise and got into his stance again. As the next round commenced and Maka launched herself at him again, Soul discovered that she was mostly attack and little defense. If he could just counter her attacks and get in close, she was done for. The problem was, of course, countering her attacks and getting in close. She struck from a distance, swinging the staff low to the ground like a scythe, forcing him to jump and guard. He jammed his sparring staff into the mat and used his momentum to swing around, effectively slamming both feet into Maka and sending her crashing to the ground.

"One, one," Stein droned, still looking bored as hell. Soul smirked as he helped Maka to her feet.

"Don't be cocky," the white haired man warned cheekily as she dusted herself off.

"Don't be a cock," she retorted, fire in her green eyes.

Soul raised his eyebrows and faced Stein. "Did you hear that?" he asked the Commander Marshal, gesturing to the woman seething in front of him. "What a potty mouth!" the pilot went on, returning his attention to Maka. "Jesus, what must your parents think?"

He reacted too late to avoid Maka's sparring rod, aimed straight for his head like a javelin.

* * *

Soul came to with a groan, scrunching up his face and lifting a hand to his head. A throbbing pain seemed to be radiating from just behind his forehead. He couldn't remember what had happened. He had been sparring for drift compatibility with the pilots Maka picked -

Maka. He'd been fighting her, and then she...she…

"She fucking wrecked you, man," a semi-familiar voice boomed in his ear. Soul opened his eyes and squinted against the bright light in the room. He then immediately closed them when he recognized the loud-mouthed, blue haired pilot from yesterday.

"Hah! I knew it! My godly presence has awakened him!" Black Star crowed.

"Black Star, _shh_!" Soul placed the soft yet high-pitched, feminine voice as the techie, Tsubaki. "He's still recovering; he took quite the hit."

"He deserved it for making a comment like that about Maks' parents. The asshole is lucky all he has is a bump on the head," Black Star sniffed. Soul tried opening his eyes again, curious as to why what he said had set Maka off like that. He was just starting to ask when Tsubaki spoke again.

"Oh, Maka!" she exclaimed. Sure enough, the pigtailed wonder herself came into the room. The techie continued, "He just woke up!"

"What happened to being quiet?" Soul grumbled, and Tsubaki apologized faintly.

"Thank you for keeping an eye on him," Maka addressed her friends with a smile.

"It's not a problem for a god like me!" Black Star laughed loudly. "Come on, Tsu. I've got to train!" He started toward the exit, flipping across the distance in a ninja-like fashion.

"You're welcome, Maka," Tsubaki smiled back, then followed dutifully after her pilot. Soul ignored his headache and sat up in his bed, fixing acerbic carmine eyes on Maka as she approached.

"What the fuck, tiny tits?" he spat out. Wordlessly, she pivoted and started walking back to the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" he called after her, his ire quickly rising.

She whirled around, hands on her hips and pigtails swinging. Verdant eyes returned his fire. "I don't take insults from anybody."

"Hate to burst your bubble, princess, but shit happens, even if you don't like it," he snapped.

"I. Don't. Take. Insults. From. _Anyone_." She punctuated each word with a step closer to him.

"Maka, Maka," Soul shook his head, a smirk on his face. "So naive. So - "

"What are you hiding, Mr. Evans?" she suddenly asked.

For a moment, his face blanked in surprise. _Back to formalities, huh?_ After he recovered, he sneered, "Don't know how to deal with criticism, _Ms. Albarn_? Changing the subject is a common evasive technique, although you probably already knew that. I don't think you're _that_ stupid." Actually, he didn't think she was stupid at all. She was definitely smarter than him, but he was too fired up to really think about what he was saying.

"Do you feel inadequate because of your brother's death?" she pressed, ignoring him. "Do you feel like less than what you used to, like it was your fault? Do you have to insult others to make it better?"

She hit too close to the mark, but two could play the game of avoiding questions. "Do you feel inadequate because of your flat chest?"

"Stop that!" she shouted, leaning forward slightly as her eyes sparked.

" _Stop that_ ~!" he mocked. He folded his arms across his chest and glared right back at her. Oh, he was just being straight-up childish now, but he didn't care.

"Fine. Fine," she collected herself, patting down her skirt. "I'll answer your questions, and then you'll answer mine. Deal?"

The white haired pilot scowled at her.

"I'm no stranger to criticism," she went ahead and began. "It's extremely difficult to grow up in a world like this without doing something wrong every now and then."

"'Every now and then?'" Soul repeated. "You only screw up 'every now and then.' What are you, a fucking saint? What makes you better than the rest of us?"

"No, Mr. Evans, I am not a saint. However, I do try to learn from my mistakes," she answered as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her index finger and her thumb. For God's sake, _he_ was the one with a headache! And it was her fault, to boot!

"Oh, excuse me, Saint Albarn," he snarled, throwing his hands up in the air. "The rest of us are down here just rolling in our mistakes and filth, not trying to get better or anything. Excuse us for being human."

"You're being dramatic." She crossed her own arms.

"Oh, I'm being _dramatic_ , she says!" His voice rose to a yell. "You know what's dramatic? Throwing a fucking sparring staff into my _face_ when your temper got the best of you!"

"You were out of line!"

"You can't be a pilot with a temper like that, Maka! You _won't_ be a pilot! Never!" At this, she deflated a little, her gaze finally breaking from his and dropping to the floor. He didn't stop, rising to his feet to loom over her. "And you know what else? You won't even be a good _woman_ with how flat you are! But that's okay, Saint Albarn is above human vices, anyway!" he roared.

And then he immediately wished he hadn't. She had hunched in on herself while he was harping on her. He wasn't being fair; he knew she wasn't the only one who could get an irrational temper sometimes. He was usually a cool, level-headed guy, but he had his moments.

She was too quiet, and he sent up a silent prayer that she wasn't crying. He didn't know how to handle that.

"I may never be a Jaeger pilot," she mumbled, head still hung, "but I'll also never make anyone feel like they're anything less than a person. I just wanted to be your friend, Soul."

If he felt bad before, he felt like Kaiju shit now. "Maka - "

She cut him off. "I know you don't let people close. How can you, especially after Nome? I'm not asking you to let me in," she lifted her head and emeralds ( _clear emeralds, thank God_ ) met rubies, "I'm just asking you not to push me away."

He swallowed. "I was being mean."

"I know." She gave him a small smile, and he smiled tentatively in return, reaching a hand behind his head to rub his neck.

"You'll be a great pilot," he offered, dropping back down on the bed. "And," he went on as he finally looked around the room to avoid eye contact with her. He recognized the layout of the room, and especially the pictures hung up over the headboard of the bed. He realized that he was actually in _his_ bed in _his_ room. "I didn't mean what I said about your body."

They both blushed at his comment. During the awkward pause that followed, she noticed him looking around and anticipated his question. "I felt bad after I...well." It was her turn to be sheepish. "So I carried you back here."

"By yourself?" His eyes widened, taking in her small frame.

"Well, the Commander Marshal opened the doors for me," she admitted, twirling a pigtail around her finger.

Meanwhile, Soul's jaw dropped. How in the _hell_ did she, who was a good foot shorter and much, much thinner than himself, carry him all the way from the training room to here? She fidgeted under his attention. She clasped her hands together in front of her and laughed awkwardly. "Are you, ah, hungry? It's still a bit before dinner, but you missed lunch."

In answer, his stomach growled. She laughed again, but it wasn't as forced this time. Before she could turn and lead him away, however, Soul reached out his hand to her. She looked at it questioningly.

"I can't promise to not be an ass," he started, "but I can promise you that I'm better than...that," he finished lamely. She got the gist of it, though, and grinned as she extended her own hand to take his.

"And I can keep my temper in check," she returned confidently. They shook on their friendship, wide smiles on both of their faces. _How cheesy_ , Soul thought to himself, but he was happy nonetheless.

"Ready to go?" Maka asked. He nodded and stood up again, surprised that the headache he had was already fading away. He figured food would help get rid of the last of it. He followed Maka out the doors and into the hallway.

"So, how long was I out for?" he casually asked as they made their way to the dining hall.

"Between four and five hours," came the answer, and Soul almost stumbled over his feet. "Although," she continued, "I only hit you hard enough to make you pass out initially. The rest was you sleeping just to sleep." She side-eyed him, and he shrugged.

"Guilty," he confessed. Maka rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed on her face. Her arms swung by her sides while his hands were jammed deep into the pockets of his pants. Soul couldn't shake the feeling that he really wanted to get to know this woman, but he also didn't want to scare her off. He still wasn't sure what had set her off in the training room earlier, but he sure as hell wasn't going to ask her now.

Instead, they followed the aroma of slightly-burnt bread to the dining hall.

* * *

As Soul laid in bed once more, this time to call it a day and descend into the land of dreams, his monitor woke him up again with another message from Stein. Soul wondered if this was going to be a regular occurrence.

 _DRIFT PRACTICE IN_ SOUL RESONANCE _0830_. _YOU WILL MEET YOUR COPILOT THERE._

As the message blinked away, the white haired pilot sighed. After four years, tomorrow would be the first time he'd be back in _Resonance_ , with an entirely different partner than who he was used to. He suddenly found that sleep eluded him, bitter feelings rising up within him. A few minutes later, a beep sounded from his monitor indicating someone at his outside door. He heaved himself up and shuffled out of his room into the living area and pressed the button for the outer door to open.

Maka stood there, her ash-blond hair tumbling past her shoulders, free of the pigtails. She wore her pajamas and clutched a book to her chest.

He slouched against the doorframe and raised an eyebrow. "A little old for kittens, aren't you?" he asked. She looked down at her nightshirt and flushed.

"Kittens are cute," she defended. _And innocent_ , Soul thought as he ran his gaze over the rest of her outfit - black shorts and mid-calf black socks. Damn, had her legs always been that long?

"I just thought," she went on, and Soul returned his eyes to her face. He fought the color that threatened to stain his cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice as she said, "that I would wish you luck for tomorrow. I doubt it'll be easy being back in there, but if there's anything I can do to help just let me know. Okay?"

He fought back the instinct to insist that he'd be fine on his own, to scoff at needing luck to get by. Rather, the corner of his lips twitched upwards. "Thanks, Maka." She looked antsy, and he remembered her fixation with his teeth. He flashed a full grin at her, displaying most of his sharp teeth, and watched with satisfaction as her face heated again.

"G-goodnight, Soul," she stuttered, retreating to her side of the hall and her room.

"'Night, Maka," he murmured, watching as she nodded and went inside her living space. He yawned, tired once again. He marveled at how with just a few words, Maka could make his fears seemingly disappear.

He didn't know what to think about that.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thank you to all the reviewers! I really appreciate your comments (:

Also, this chapter contains **graphic violence**. Please read at your discretion.

* * *

He figured it would become a habit, meeting Maka in the dining hall during breakfast so she could walk him to where he needed to be. Even though she was short, she was hard to miss; her bright red and black plaid skirt was easy to spot in the mass of white uniforms. She was also sitting by an empty seat, which was like finding something misplaced at one of his mother's parties - it didn't happen.

Regardless, he made his way through the line and placed his tray next to hers on the table, stifling a yawn as he dropped down in his seat.

"'Mornin'," he rumbled, leaning over his tray to dig into (what he guessed was) a pile of scrambled eggs. Maka smiled tiredly at him. Several "good morning"s and other greetings sounded back to him and he looked up, recognizing the faces from the basketball court two days ago.

"Oh hey," Soul grunted through a mouthful.

"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full," Maka chided him. He rolled his eyes and continued eating.

Liz squealed something, and the white-haired pilot lifted his head to see her clutching her sister. Patti giggled back and patted Liz on the head. He turned to Maka but she avoided his questioning gaze, a red tint high on her cheeks.

"Are you excited to meet your partner, Soul?" Tsubaki asked. She seemed to deliberately be ignoring Black Star beside her, who was shoveling in food like a snowplow in a blizzard.

Soul paused to swallow, then shrugged. "It's gonna be weird." He was certain they all knew what had happened in Nome. There weren't any secrets anymore; no one felt the need to hide anything. If he chose to read their files, he'd know almost everything about everyone at the table.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Kid intoned, not looking up from his book. _What a nerd_ , Soul thought as he gulped down orange juice, then he smiled. _Speaking of nerds…_ Maka had been noticeably silent this morning. Usually she would talk his ear off. He nudged her with his elbow.

"Why so quiet, pigtails?" he asked. "Late night?" He grinned, remembering how she had pinked when he'd smiled at her.

"I was studying," she replied vaguely. His smirk disappeared, sliding into a curious expression. Before he could ask her why the hell she was studying when the goddamned Earth was about to end, Black Star jumped up.

"Soul, my bro!" the blue-haired pilot bellowed. Soul slouched and looked around the dining hall, but no one seemed to pay the loud-mouthed man any attention. "Come on, peasant! I'm taking you to your bay!"

"Wait, I thought Maka - ?" Soul trailed off. Maka simply shook her head. Soul frowned. _God, even her pigtails look tired_.

"Hurry up, man!" Black Star complained. Soul sighed as he stood up with his tray, but Maka put a hand on his arm, halting him.

"I'll take that back for you when I take mine. Black Star's chomping at the bit to leave," she waved her other hand toward the pilot who was now running in place.

"Thanks," Soul grunted, putting his tray back down. He stretched out his limbs before acknowledging his chauffeur. "Okay, man, let's go." As they headed out, Soul glanced back at Maka. She was sandwiched between Tsubaki and Liz - they seemed to be whispering furtively to her - and her head was dropped into her hands. His brows furrowed, and Liz looked up. She grinned wickedly, then turned and resumed talking with Maka with even more passion.

"You're fallin' behind, pleb!" Black Star called. Soul hadn't noticed that he'd halted in the middle of the exit, and moved to catch up to the other pilot.

"So," Black Star began, "do you remember how to drift?"

"It's hard to forget," Soul remarked derisively.

"I know you're not a god like me," the man continued, "so I was just looking out for my minion."

"'Minion?'" the white-haired pilot repeated, eyebrow raised.

"Of course. I'm a god." As if that explained everything. Soul rolled his eyes, but Black Star didn't notice. He went on, "Anyway, if you need a bro, I'm your bro." He held out a fist and Soul bumped it with his own, his mouth tipping up into a half-smile. How was it that, at the end of civilization, Soul could finally make friends?

The two men had almost reached the bay when Soul thought to ask, "Hey, do you know who my partner is?"

Black Star chuffed a laugh. "Gods know all," he said ambiguously, hauling the bay door open. It slammed to the side, announcing their presence to the crew stationed in the bay. Soul ignored their stares as he and Black Star made their way to the fitting tech.

"This is where I leave you," the blue-haired pilot clapped Soul on the back. Soul almost winced; the guy could pack a punch. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" With that, Black Star backed out of the room, leaving Soul to suit up in the sleek black pilot uniform - an upgrade from the standard white gear that he had donned four years previously.

"There isn't much he wouldn't do," one of the techs muttered, and Soul stifled a chuckle. He decided he liked his fellow pilot, his _bro_. However, thoughts of a bro brought back memories of an actual brother, one whose body was never recovered from the Atlantic.

Soul shook himself. Thinking about Nome and Wes wouldn't help him drift today. His new partner deserved his full attention and commitment, and Soul wasn't going to accept anything less in return.

Once he was fully outfitted, Soul stepped into the conn-pod. Two techies followed behind him to help him strap in. It felt good to be back in _Resonance_ ; he hadn't realized how much he missed it until he was back. He could already feel the adrenaline in his blood as he was harnessed into the right side of the conn-pod. He heard more footsteps approach, signalling the arrival of his new partner. He closed his eyes.

"I'm gonna be honest," Soul called over to his partner, "you're gonna see some fucked-up shit when we drift."

"I've done my research," a familiar voice called back. Soul's eyes snapped open as he whipped his head to the left. He couldn't suppress a grin as Maka's own smile beamed back at him.

"Well hello, pigtails," he welcomed, his serrated smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Surprised to see me?" she asked as her tech secured her into her harness. He decided that the black gear suited her. Having her small form next to his was odd, though; Wes had stood at about the same height as Soul. However, the white-haired pilot found that the oddity wasn't an unwelcome one.

"I wondered if Stein would give up his prized informant to be partners with me," he answered instead.

"This is something I've been waiting to do for a long time," she murmured, just barely loud enough for Soul to catch.

"Hey now, don't fall asleep on me," he teased, hiding his legitimate concern for his new partner.

 _Partner_. Partners with Maka. That was beyond cool.

"I won't," she vowed.

" _Pilots of_ Soul Resonance _,_ " Stein's voice crackled over the earpiece, reminiscent of old times. " _Today is a practice run to see if you can drift with each other and pilot your Jaeger._ "

"Yes, sir," Maka saluted, though Soul knew the Commander Marshal couldn't see. The techies left, sealing the exit behind them, and the conn-pod descended toward the rest of the Jaeger. Soul smiled over at his copilot, but her attention was focused forward, concentrating intensely. The conn-pod finally made contact with the rest of the body, and the Jaeger self-attached the head, thus securing the conn-pod and its pilots into place.

A soft _puff_ indicated the presence of Stein still on the communicator. " _Are you two ready to drift?_ "

Soul wondered why Stein wasn't just letting the pilots initiate drift like normal, but he didn't ask. Instead, he closed his eyes as he heard Maka again answer, "Yes, sir." He sent the command for calibration and actively relaxed his tense limbs as he waited for the neural connection to begin. All at once, they fell into each other's minds.

At first, Soul rejected Maka's entrance, memories of his last partner flashing by and the feeling of _feeling Wes die_ attempting to submerge him. Vaguely, he heard voices through his earpiece attempt to lure him back out of his thoughts. He remembered Maka, who was not just his partner, but his friend, and let go of his reservations. He could feel her finally glide through his mind, drift reached on his side - but something was still off. He looked over to her body, still and unresponsive to his left.

"Maka," he called. She didn't acknowledge him, lost in memories of her own. "Maka," he tried again, "let me in. Come on, we can do this!" Suddenly the conn-pod disappeared, and he found himself inside a dark closet. Just in front of him was a much younger Maka who was peeking through a small crack in the door and horridly watching something ahead. Soul squinted through the small space and saw a young woman sitting on a bed. Tears streamed down her face, and her eyes (so green, just like Maka's) were wide and wild. He looked down at Maka, then back to the woman, and it hit him that she was Maka's mother. Just as he made the connection, the woman on the bed wobbily pressed a gun up into the base of her jaw.

"Mama, no!" little Maka cried, bursting through the door. Soul couldn't look as a loud _bang!_ rewarded her efforts. Maka screamed.

"Maka," he gritted his teeth, walking out of the closet with his eyes still averted, "it's just a memory." She kept screaming, and a tall, red-haired man burst into the room. "Kami, the fire escape's - "He stopped in his tracks, the color draining from his face as he took in the scene before him.

"Oh, God." The man lurched forward and sank to his knees by the edge of the bed. He stared helplessly at Maka's mother before he reached out, taking the ring from her left hand. He dropped it in his pocket before he turned to Maka. She stumbled into his arms, her screams melting into sobs. Her small hands clasped at his neck as the man held her tightly.

"Maka, it's not real." Soul knew he couldn't touch her to get her attention; it was only a memory, after all. He could only hope that she could hear his voice.

And as if it was a bad horror movie, Soul heard the roar of a Kaiju outside. The building began to shake, pieces of plaster falling from the ceiling. Soul knew the rubble wouldn't hurt him; the whole thing wasn't real.

"Maka, we have to go," the red-haired man choked out, easily picking Maka up and striding out of the room. Soul followed close behind.

"But Mama!" Maka protested, a hand reaching behind the man's head to grasp towards the dead woman in the bedroom. Her face peeked out, almost as red as the man's long hair.

"Mama..." the man trailed off. "Papa's got you now," he said instead, throwing open a door that lead to a hallway. It was crowded with people desperate to get out of the building. Maka's dad would've made a great linebacker; he made it to the stairwell in record time, pushing and shoving past hysterical men and women. Soul wove in and out of the crowd, still following the pair. He guessed, as Maka's father flew down the stairs, that Maka's skill in the training room was partially inherited. Maka's weight didn't seem to hinder the red-haired man in the slightest.

The building shuddered as the Kaiju approached - Soul could see it coming in the windows of the stairwell. Before they had reached the first floor, however, the Kaiju made a swipe for the building. The impact rocked the building, causing the lights to flicker and debris to fall on them. Maka's dad covered her head as he rocketed down the remaining stairs.

Finally, they made it to the bottom, and Maka's father flung open the door. The room was a frenzy of people trying to get to the outside, the mass exodus leaping from the proverbial frying pan into the fryer. The red-headed man fought his way to the front of the pack - Soul still trailing father and daughter - as another terrifying screech rocked the building. Maka's dad had no sooner gotten the both of them outside when Soul saw the Kaiju take another swing at the building, knocking the upper half of the building down in their direction.

Yeah, this was definitely like a bad horror movie.

Maka's dad looked up at the falling debris and kept running, but while the man had strength, he didn't have speed. With a kind of sickening clarity, Soul could guess what was going to happen next. The sheer noise of the situation - the thundering of the collapsing building, people screaming, stomach-turning _crunch_ es that Soul didn't want to think about - made it hard to think, even though the whole thing was just a memory. However, he could somehow still hear what the red-headed man was saying to Maka as he tried to get the both of them to safety.

"Maka, you know that Mama and Papa love you very much," he reminded her. "You are a strong, smart girl, and we are so proud of you." In his words and the way he tightened his grip on his daughter, Soul knew that her dad knew he wasn't going to make it. As huge pieces of the building rained down hot on their heels, Maka's dad shoved her in a small alcove in the side of another building. There wasn't enough room for both of them, and the red-headed man tugged on Maka's little pigtails. He gave her a wistful smile, tears streaming, and he stuck one of his hands into his pocket. He pulled out Maka's mother's ring, then took off his own. He tucked both of them into her small hands as he whispered, "Keep these safe, okay? The Jaegers will come. They'll - "

And just like when Wes died, Maka's dad didn't even get to finish his sentence before his life was cut short, the sharp claws of the Kaiju shredding him along with the rubble from the destroyed building. Soul turned away from the scene and took a deep breath; he knew it was just a memory but god _damn_.

"Papa!" little Maka cried, but she didn't move from her spot, clutching the rings tightly to her heart. The Kaiju roared again, but Soul was focused on the younger version of his partner as she tried to cry silently so as not to attract the attention of the creature. She closed her eyes and curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth while the Kaiju wreaked havoc outside.

Soul crouched down next to her. "Maka," he murmured, "this isn't real." Heavy steps sounded in the distance, and the monster turned toward the source. Soul also turned and squinted, but he could hardly see Maka through the dust, let alone a mile or so in the distance.

The familiar noises of a Kaiju/Jaeger battle came to him, and after what felt like hours, silence finally covered the area. Soul wasn't sure if that was better or worse. Maka lifted her head and cautiously scanned the outside before carefully peeking her head out of her nook. When no danger was present, she crawled out. She spun around in a slow circle, her parents' rings still pressed tightly to her chest, and she started to cry out again. She shuffled down the street, tripping on the debris but never letting go of her precious treasures.

As she attempted to escape the area, the thundering footsteps from before headed in her direction. Soul watched as she frantically searched left and right for a place to hide but, too soon, an enormous shadow fell over her. She turned wide, terrified emerald eyes to the thing looming over her - a Jaeger.

Soul and Maka peered up at the mechanical warrior, waiting for something to happen as it paused in front of them. The girl trembled, quaking hard enough that Soul worried she'd lose the rings she held in her tiny hand. The top of the conn-pod of the Jaeger opened, and a figure climbed out on top. Soul barely recognized the pilot's uniform from days long past in basic training - that specific design was quickly scrapped after it was discovered that the suit was a shitty protector against the radioactivity generated by the Mark-I Jaegers. The pilot took off his headgear, and Soul's jaw dropped.

Atop the Jaeger, a younger Stein tucked his helmet under his arm offered little Maka a soft smile.

* * *

When the power to _Resonance_ was cut off, Soul didn't wait for the techies to come and unstrap him from his harness. He unstrapped himself in a frenzy before rushing over to Maka, who was still unresponsive to the outside world. He quickly freed her from her harness, catching her with an arm banded around her chest when she fell. He gently brought them down to the ground and laid her down with her head against his chest. He worked her headgear off of her as he murmured, "It's okay. You're okay," over and over again. He couldn't tell if she could hear him or not - her eyes were glazed - but it made himself feel better. He took off his own helmet and threw it aside before returning to her. Up close, he could see the tear tracks on her face. His heart clenched as he examined his partner.

His partner who had watched both her parents die and was up close with a Kaiju before being rescued by the present Commander Marshal.

Soul had to take some deep breaths himself as her memory processed in his mind. He immediately recalled compatibility testing when he had teased her about what her parents thought of her language. He felt immensely guilty now, knowing her background. Yeah, he had definitely deserved that sparring staff to the head.

He kept his crimson gaze on Maka as she sucked in air, her viridian orbs finally starting to clear. Her eyes darted left and right, no doubt looking for the danger that was in her memory.

"Hey, look at me," Soul commanded softly but firmly. She fixed her sight on him, hyperventilating in the wake of her traumatic recollection. "Just breathe. Here, match me," he went on, and he maintained steady breathing for her to copy. Seconds later, the techies burst into the conn-pod to make sure that nothing was damaged when the power to _Soul Resonance_ was cut, but Soul hardly noticed them, his full attention on his partner.

Her tears had stopped and her breathing returned to normal, her pounding heart easing up a bit. He tucked her under his chin as he continued whispering soothing words to her. He knew how hard dealing with death was; hell, he probably knew best, since he was still drifting with Wes when he was killed.

"I'm sorry." If Soul hadn't been holding Maka so close, he would have missed the apology that whispered across the skin of his exposed neck.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for." He was confused. Drifting with bad memories wasn't easy, but they had at least attained it. He remembered a time when, even with good memories, he couldn't drift with anyone.

"I let you down. I'm so sorry," she mumbled, her breath starting to hitch again.

"Maka, hey, listen to me." He released his hold on her only to grip her by the shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze head-on. "We drifted. That's pretty cool."

"We weren't able to hold drift," she reminded him, her gaze dropping from his as her shoulders slumped.

"Today was just practice," he countered, lifting her chin so she'd look at him again.

"But I failed!" she argued. "What if that happened in the middle of a battle?"

"It won't. That's why we practice first," he pointed out.

"But still," she insisted, hanging her head. "I failed you as a partner today."

"So don't do it again." He shrugged as she stared at him with wide eyes. "Sure, easier said than done, but that's why we practice. I'll help you out, and you'll help me. We're partners, Maka."

"Excuse me," a techie cut in, and the two pilots looked up at her. "We need to make sure any of the electrical components of your suits haven't been damaged." Maka nodded as Soul sighed, and they both stood up. The white haired pilot grabbed both of their helmets on the way out.

After exiting the conn-pod, he waved off the tech help that came to help them remove their gear. Maka gave him a weird look, but he didn't bother explaining as he motioned for her to turn around. He knew how to take off a suit, even if it was a different style than what he was used to. He helped her out of her uniform, taking extra care to be gentle. As the final pieces were removed, she was left standing in front of him in just a t-shirt, shorts, and socks, all drenched with sweat. He laid her gear in a heap that was quickly taken by the techies. Maka then moved behind him.

"I can get that," he offered, turning his head to the side but otherwise not moving.

"I'm your partner," she stated, and Soul smiled at her renewed courage.

Once his suit was also gone, they made their way back through the maze of hallways to their rooms. Before Maka could disappear into hers, Soul reached out and grabbed her hand. She paused, observing his large hand covering hers before giving him a questioning look.

"Hey, don't let today get you down. I'm not easy to drift with," he reminded her. A corner of his mouth turned up at the understatement, but she remained serious.

"I know. Last night I reread your file and used the database to access information on how to successfully drift. A lot of good it did," she snorted derisively. Before he could interrupt, she carried on, "I want to be a good partner for you, Soul."

Ah, so _that's_ what she was doing so late last night. A soft smile crossed his face; of course she'd sacrifice sleep for researching, the nerd. But what really struck him was that she did all that work so she'd be _better for him_. He wasn't used to someone caring about him like that, what with growing up as the familial disgrace. Wes had looked out for him, but he had also kept himself in mind. Maka had given up her self-importance to expand her knowledge and be a good partner for him.

Maka waved the hand he wasn't holding in front of his face, and he startled from his thoughts.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, I'm great," he grinned toothily. She smiled back. "So," he went on, there's still half a day to kill. How about lunch?"

"You and your food," Maka shook her head, but her smile never wavered. Soul was reluctant to drop her hand as they headed toward the dining hall, but she gave him a small squeeze before letting go. She walked at his pace, back to her normal self and talking his ear off about anything and everything. She didn't expect much by way of response from him, and he appreciated that.

He had a damn cool partner.


End file.
